


SCP - R-8352

by Salty_Heichou



Category: Fortnite (Video Game), Fortnite Oc, Mothman (Folklore), Mothman Oc, Original Work, SCP Foundation, original character - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Evil Guard, Mature for, Mind Control, Minor Character Death, Non Graphic Body Horror, Violence, human test subjects, nuclear disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 16:09:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20838323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salty_Heichou/pseuds/Salty_Heichou
Summary: A nuclear bomb was dropped on an innocent town that was settled in the country side of Russia. Cher, a man turned creature, having forgotten who he used to be, struggles to move forward. The Scp finds out about his existence, and what should have been a peaceful story’s end, is sadly more then what everyone bargained for.





	SCP - R-8352

Waking up had been strange, he did not understand why he was laying in the middle of a forest, or why the trees around him were broken and grass around him charred. He looked down at himself for any damage, and found that only his finger tips and up to his forearms had been badly burned. Yet, he felt no pain, even if the skin there was an angry red.

His first steps had been unsteady, yet he still made his way through the broken woods. It wasn’t long before he came across a patch of flowers, a bright beacon amongst burned grass. He also found a skeleton there, vines having grown and weaved there way around the small bones. The flowers matched the tattered dress that was partly hidden in the grass, all blues and yellows.

Deep down he felt sadness that he didn’t understand, and yet the scene before him seemed like a perfect resting place. Life carried on in the petals that danced and twirled in the gentle breeze, looked after by the sun’s rays. He left the area and walked onward, his body drawn down a road and into a crumbling, quiet town. His mind didn’t know where he was going, but the path seemed familiar, like his body knew every step. Like his body knew, he was supposed to be here.

He spent months in that town, having come across many corpses, decayed and nothing but bones. All the shops were empty, every window shattered and the streets covered in glass and rubble. It left him believing that just about everyone was dead, the town was so quiet, not even the birds would sing their songs when they rested in the trees.

One day he found a mirror, large and leaning against the wall of a near by shop. Parts of the mirror was black and charred, but he could still see most of himself in the shining reflective silver. Large yellow, insect like eyes gazed back at him, his face covered in a short layer of black fur, with two matching black antenna that stuck out from the top of his head, his antenna having white circular spots. 

Around his neck like a collar was fluffy, fawn colored fur. Almost like the fur collar of a fancy coat, and yet when he tugged on his fluff he found that it was indeed apart of him. The fur went around his neck, and then downwards toward the center of his chest, where fur met pale skin. Along his shoulders and at the edges of his collar bone, on both sides, was more short black fur. The fur moving downward just an inch, before it met the skin of his arms and torso.

He would have continued to admire his appearance had he not caught a glimpse of movement behind himself. Quickly he froze and slowly turning to see what had moved. He then felt a sense of relief when he only saw a woman, her clothes burned and tattered much like his own, and her head was covered in a pink shawl so he couldn’t see much of her face. 

But from what he could see, her arms and her legs were covered in a layer of reddish brown feathers, similar to that of a chicken. He would catch glimpses of the feathers as the woman dug through the rubble of a shop, and he tried to make no sound as he watched. But when she turned, that’s when she spotted him.

They both froze, both of their yellow eyes gazed at each other and all seemed still. The tension faded when he gave a small wave, and her eyes crinkled up with a hidden smile, waving a feathered hand back at him. He did his best to speak to her but when his voice only came out in squeaks, he started writing words in the dirt, and was relieved that she was able to read and understand what he wrote. 

Back and forth they wrote to each other in russian, and he found that she too was drawn to the town and also didn’t know anything about herself when she had woken up in a field near a farm. He then helped her move the rubble so she could search under the rocks, even if she never said what she was searching for. Regardless, he had been happy to help, but when they came up empty she waved goodbye and disappeared into the woods.

Three days had passed when he saw her again, when he found her laying on the train tracks of the town’s train station. She was laying on her side, one arm clutching a red bag to herself as her chest heaved with labored breaths. He approached her slowly, making sure she saw him before he sat down beside her, not wanting to startle her and feeling nothing but concern. Though as she looked at him, he noticed her yellow eyes held nothing but calm, despite her struggles to breathe.

He gently took her free hand in his, held it in hopes to comfort her as they both waited. As they both knew, what was coming. He sat with her the entire time, holding her hand and listened to her breathing. Each breath slowly becoming shorter and shorter, until there was nothing. Nothing but silence, warmth fading into cold and her hand limp in his own. 

He sat there for a while, in respectful silence, quietly mourning her passing, and after the moment he rested her hand over her other one so both would be on the bag. He then gently pulled her shawl more over her face to cover her, and left the train station. When he returned two days later, he found her body and the red bag gone. However, despite her missing body, he laid down flowers on the spot she had passed, and never returned to the train station again.

**Author's Note:**

> To Be Continued...


End file.
